


You're a Ghost, Buster

by dulceflowercrowns



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: 80s, Alternate Universe, Attempt at Humor, Awkward Romance, Character Turned Into a Ghost, Fluff, M/M, Randomness, Spooky, Supernatural Elements, my soft halloween fic 3 months late
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-10-16 09:10:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17546813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dulceflowercrowns/pseuds/dulceflowercrowns
Summary: *First chapter re-written*It's 1985. Armie house-sits for his parents and they failed to mention that their villa is haunted.Or, I never got to write anything for Halloween and Timmy as a self conscious ghost sounds adorable so here. Was supposed to be a one-shot but yeet. Enjoy!





	You're a Ghost, Buster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They meet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here, have this diddly do I did because I've been dyyyying to write this dynamic duo in an 80s/90 AU. also Ghost! Timmy? how pure.

All was quiet at 4 AM the autumn of '85, cool autumn breeze sweeping lazily over the cheaper side of Malibu. The sky was purple, stagnant pools were a murky green, and a charming college dropout by the name of Armie Hammer was looking quite ill in his parent's newly renovated villa.

Now Armie was only house sitting for his folks instead of still laying passed out at Nick Delli Santi's keg party because he needed the extra cash. His folks usually made him do them favors for the money he asked for, and house sitting last minute while they were out of town was one of the more lightweight chores. Only, this time was different. This time Armie felt like he'd just watched his heart moonwalk out of his ass.

Because during his pre-dawn quest for beer in the kitchen, he'd seen an illuminated freakin  _ghost head_  hovering between the punch bowl and his dad's leftover chili.

Yeah. The hell?

The only thing that kept Armie from screaming bloody murder and pissing in his pajama shorts was the fact that he genuinely couldn't remember how to. He could only stand there frozen, knowing he should probably move and do something but not knowing what or how to.

"Uhm, dude? You can, like, see me... right?"

Instantly Armie stumbled away from the teenaged face hanging- and now talking- out of his parents' teal fridge and wondered if he finally went too far this time. Had one drink too many. Maybe it was time to throw in the alcoholic, shitfaced, bar crawling towel, call the fast life quits. He could take up refuge in a church. Become a nun, maybe. He'd seen some Corona-golden years and had some good times and 20-something, give or take, was a fair age to retire from it all.

He wouldn't be mad becoming a nun.

Could dudes even be nuns?

Either way Armie was done house sitting for Mr. and Mrs. Hammer. Last time, their demon shiatsu attacked Armie when he opened the front gate and it was blind in one eye, so Armie still had no idea how the little rat's aim was so spot on. Now this?

"Earth to... wait. I didn't quite catch your name yet."

With a squeak Armie crashed back into the kitchen table as  _it_  stepped out fully into the open. It was a little shorter than him, brunette, curly headed, and had terrible posture. Lithe, pale, and hovering two feet over speckled linoleum tiles was a boy.

No more mixing liquor again. Ever.

"Anyways, you kinda seem like you've seen a ghost and I, well..."

It snorted.

So this was really happening. Because even in a bleary, drunken state, Armie wouldn't come up with a joke that bad.

"I'm totally not drunk enough for this,"he murmured to himself, feeling suddenly nauseous and terribly underpaid. "Fifty bucks isn't worth losing my mind."

"Aha! So you _do_ see me. I mean I'm sorry that it's got you freaking out man, but this is kinda sick for me," the thing beamed, pumping it's translucent fist straight through the ceiling fan like a hologram.

"I don't meet people who are also, ya know, meeting _me_  very often. It gets lonely being a ghost."

Ghost?

Nope. Absolutely not.

Armie leaned against the wall, tugging at his blonde tufts of bedhead like it might ease his headache. He really wouldn't mind joining a nunnery.

"This is not real. Its all a joke," he insisted, staring at the floor in disbelief.

The ghost rubbed its arms and slumped a little.

"What? Am I, like, not creepy enough to be believable?"

Huh?

A ghost in need of a pep talk? It had the nerve to act disarming and small as if it wasn't totally plotting to tear Armie limb from pretty little limb, just as soon as the taller guy stopped cowering under his mother's painting of Jesus eating her prized casserole at the Last Supper.

Armie needed a tylenol. And help. Psychotically speaking, of course- some therapist was gonna make loads off him (his parents) when this was all over- but he also needed help help. As in, how far was the nearest police station and would they come faster if he mentioned his dad was an attorney?

He stumbled over to the landline all too eager to find out.

And then _it_ spoke up again.

"Not to undermine you or anything, cause I'm totally not about that-"

How polite.

"-but... who exactly are you gonna call?"

Armie paused, if not just for a fraction of a second, in his flustered maddash for the phone. Something about that phrase and the boy's playful tone tickled his memory like he'd heard it before...

And he _had_ heard it before, he realized. On a movie date with his ex from junior year.

_That smug sonofa-_

"You're not funny," Armie muttered- sighed, really- to a sauce stain on his parents' floral wallpaper.

It was the first time Armie directly talked to the ghost, acknowledging it's existence, and both parties seemed genuinely surprised by this feat.

Ghost boy feigned looking put out, floating ahead and backwards so he could fix Armie with a frown, throwing up his skinny arms dramatically.

"You were supposed to say,  _"ghost busters"_. Like the movie? Did you see it? It came out last year and it's pretty good."

Corny pun. And heartless, circumstances considered. But it did make Armie think.

Who  _was_  he gonna call and explain this to? Everyone would write him off as crazy.

Shit, he felt crazy and still wasn't 100% sure this wasn't all just a wacky dream induced by partying too hard at Nick's a few hours ago.

_Yeah, that's it. A wacky dream. In real life I'm passed out in Nick's bathroom after drinking my liver to death. I'll wake up and laugh about this._

Armie breathed out a slightly demented chuckle, scratching his chin to relieve some of his nervous energy. Okay. Yeah, that made sense. This was a nightmare and he was fine. Things were cool again.

He couldn't stop laughing though, jeez.

"Hey, bro. Are you okay?"

Armie was fine. Everything was fine. He just really had to lay off the booze.

But he was _fine_.

The last things Armie remembered seeing were green eyes getting wider, closer, and the faded words on ghost boy's t-shirt. Then his shoulder felt burning cold and the whole world turned black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so that happened. updates like with Praecoquere will be helllllllla random but all feedback is welcome and adored! until next chappie, xxx


End file.
